


The Prophet Series: Prologue

by Amethystia



Series: The Prophet Series [1]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Angst, Beginning of Adventure, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethystia/pseuds/Amethystia
Summary: A young writer is diagnosed with a incurable blood disease. The Doctor shows up at her door and tells her that her dreams are about to come true. She is about to become the Lady Prophet. She is going to travel to many different universes and guide them and live in them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prologue for my largest project every. The Prophet Series. The prologue will contain two parts. I am looked for co-authors, as well. PM or comment if interested and I will let you know what that might entail.

If I was honest, my life had been going downhill for a while. But I was rarely honest, and least of all with myself. In the end, I wasn’t much surprised by the diagnosis. I just looked at the doctor and asked how bad it was. She told me that I had been displaying symptoms for over eight years but none of the doctors had pieced it together. Apparently my old family doctor had kept horrible records and my clinic and hospital visits had been sporadic, usually brought on by specific things like broken bones, bladder infections and bouts of flu. No one had thought to look deeper. Even when I had gotten a new family doctor it had taken them nearly two years to determine what was wrong.

They had done a battery of tests when I was fifteen and having seizures, but they had been looking for something that had seizures as a final outcome, not an early symptom. It turned out that that was exactly what they were. I had a rare blood disease, they said, a bad one. I couldn’t even pronounce the name, let alone spell it. The irony of even my blood turning against me was not lost on me. But then again, irony rarely was, especially self-deprecating irony.  The doctors informed me that with certain medications and treatments I could live a fairly normal life for a few years, before needing extensive care. By fairly normal they meant sitting at home, on my computer or in bed, maybe take some online courses, but any kind of strenuous work or full time school were out of the question.

I couldn’t live on my own, the doctor made that quite clear. But since I had been for more than two years, I wasn’t sure what to do. The doctor suggested I move back in with my parents, but I would still need at least a part time nurse. My mother was very against it, and it wouldn’t have been possible if my Dad hadn’t finally grown a backbone and made her let me stay. She blamed my disease on poor diet, eating too much and not getting enough exercise. That was until my doctor informed her that because I had spent nearly my whole life battling eating disorders (anorexia and bulimia, at different times), my body had effectively shut down its immune responses, allowing the disease to get a footing without anyone knowing. My mother raged that I ate junk food constantly, but in fact I ate little, as she constantly called me fat, and when I had been on my own I had often simply forgotten, or it had been ingrained in me how little I needed to eat in order to be ‘healthy’ according to her.

The doctor put me on a very heavy diet, mostly due to the medications. Despite the food I dropped down to around 100lbs, something I hadn’t weighed since I was twelve. My mother stilled complained I was eating too much, but I mostly ignored her. A nurse and my Dad helped me set up a room in the walk out basement, so the nurse could come and go as needed and I’d have some privacy, but still be in shouting range if I needed help.

It was about six months after the initial diagnosis that things began to change. It started with a noise. A noise I knew well. From a television show. The TARDIS noise, from Doctor Who. It sounded like it was coming from outside, but that couldn’t be right. My Dad must be watching Doctor Who upstairs. I went up the stairs to investigate, but the TV wasn’t even on. My mother was in the kitchen. I sighed and started to turn to go back downstairs, but then the doorbell rang. My mother glanced at me but then went to answer it. I followed and stood off to the side behind her. A man stood there, with tousled brown hair and chocolate brown eyes.

“Hello!” He greeted my mother, “Is Jessie home?” He asked. I rushed forward.

“Who are you?” My mother asked. The man smiled.

“I’m the Doctor.” He informed her. My mother frowned.

 “Doctor Who?” She asked. I laughed and so did the Doctor.

“Isn’t that the question?” I grinned and pushed past my mother and out the door. “Bye Mom! Be back soon!” I said as I closed the door. I followed him off the porch and saw the TARDIS parked in the driveway. I was floored. It was real. So real.

“One trip, Lady Prophet, anywhere in space and time.” He offered, gesturing to the blue box that now sat in my driveway. With a snap of his fingers he opened the doors.

“Why’d you call me that?” I asked, frowning. He smiled.

“Because that is what you are, or rather, will be. In another world, another reality actually, you and I great friends.” He told me. He grinned at me and I grinned back, following him into the TARDIS.

“But I’m not—that’s just a story…” I sputtered, looking around in awe.

“We are all stories in the end.” The Doctor said.

“But the Lady Prophet is a great warrior, with amazing powers. I’m nothing.” I said, looking at the floor. “I’m just a girl with a blood disease and too big of an imagination.” I added.

“Everyone has to start somewhere.” He told me with a kind smile. “Now come on, anywhere in time and space.” He prompted. I smiled. I knew exactly where I wanted to go.

“I want Henry. King Henry VIII.” I said.

“Not a new planet? Or the future?” The Doctor asked, but he was smiling and already working the consul.

“Nope. Henry.” I repeated. He grinned at me.

“Any particular point?” He asked, pausing in front of the view screen.

“After the birth of his daughter Elizabeth but before he beheads Anne Boleyn. When everything was happy.” I elaborated.

“Very specific. I should have known you’d pick Henry.” He said, spinning a few more dials.

“Why?” I asked.

“Spoilers.”

“That’s River Song’s word.”

“So it is. And it fits. For now at least.” He winked at me. I frowned.

“Whatever, can we go see Henry now?” I asked, choosing to question him further later. He smiled.

“Yes, of course! Off we go! I’d quite forgotten how impatient you are. It’s something you never lose, which means you get irritated _a lot_.” He muttered the last bit and I rolled my eyes.

“No need to mutter at me, Doctor, I am quite aware of my own failings.” I told him. He sighed.

“Too aware, my friend. Don’t forget your strengths, Jessie; they will see you through this.” He said encouragingly. “And don’t forget your friends either. You have many.” He added, cryptically. I frowned at him again. Before I could ask another question, the wheezing noise signaled our landing.

“Are we here?” I asked. The Doctor checked the view screen. He smiled.

“We are indeed. Hampton Court, just in time for the celebrations for the birth of the Princess Elizabeth.” He said. I grinned.

“Oh! Can we go?” I asked. He nodded.

“Not dressed like that, however.” He said. I looked down at my sweatpants and t-shirt. “Not to worry, I’m sure the TARDIS has something. Closet’s just down there.” He pointed down a set of stairs. I skipped down the steps.

I found the closet easily enough and hanging at the very front was a beautiful gown, in the style most popular in the reign of King Henry VIII, done in blues and greens. Briefly I wished it were purple, my favourite colour, but then remember that purple was the colour of royalty in this time and I wasn’t trying to stand out, only blend in.

I stepped forward and undid the laces at the back, then pulled the gown over my head. I tried to reach behind me and do the laces up again but I couldn’t quite get them. But then I felt the dress tighten as the laces tied themselves. I frowned, but knew it was probably the TARDIS helping me. I let my messy ponytail down only to find it being braided for me. The braids wound themselves into a bun. A perfectly acceptable hairstyle for this era.

“Thank you, TARDIS.” I murmured, knowing it was the blue box’s doing. I looked around and found a mirror, and admired myself in it. I looked like a princess. I smiled at my reflection then made my way back to the control room.

“You look splendid!” The Doctor exclaimed when he saw me. He himself was wearing a magnificent blue coat and britches.

“So do you, Doctor.” I replied. He smiled.

“I don’t often dress up, but I figure we’re going to a party so I might as well.” He said, adjusting his coat. I grinned.

“Shall we then, Doctor?” I asked, holding out my arm. He took it with a wink and escorted me out of the TARDIS and into the party.

It was by far the best night of my life. We danced and drank and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

At the end of the night, or nearing its end, though the King had long since retired to his chambers, I asked the Doctor a question.

“Can I meet him? Please?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He said, not needing to ask whom I was talking about.

“Please, Doctor?” I begged. “If what you said about me being the Lady Prophet is true, I won’t see him for a very long time.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do.” He said, sighing. He led me down the twisting halls of Hampton Court. He stopped in front of a door guarded by two men. He spoke to one of the men, showing him what I assumed was his psychic paper. He blinked at the paper then nodded.

“You have five minutes.” The guard told me and opened the door. I smiled at him and at the Doctor, who smiled back, then I went inside.

“Henry…” I breathed. He was seated at his desk, wearing only a night shirt. He looked up.

“Who are you? Who let you in here?” He exclaimed, standing.

“You don’t know me, and you won’t in this life…but in another, you will…” I said, then, unable to contain myself, I launched myself at him and pressed my lips against his. He was startled but kissed me back as if on instinct. Then I pulled away, tears in my eyes and turned and ran, without even saying goodbye. I ran right to the Doctor.

“Are you alright?” He asked. I shook my head.

“Can we just go? Please?” I asked, trying to wipe away my tears. He nodded and led me back to the TARDIS. I sat down on one of the seats by the console. I looked down at my beautiful dress. The Doctor looked at me.

“Did something happen?” He asked. I looked up at him.

“You could say that.” I whispered. Then something occurred to me. “Doctor, how did you get to my universe?” I asked. He looked at me.

“I harnessed the energy released when two soulmates met face-to-face for the first time in their true forms.” He answered, matter-of-factly. I blinked.

“Why, Doctor? Why me?” I asked with a sigh.

 “Because you are important.”

“I’m not though! I’m just a girl who fails at everything she tries! Even not fucking dying!” I screamed back, balling my beautiful dress in my fists, tears streaming down my face. Suddenly arms were around me.

“No, no, no. Never say that! You are amazing! I’ve known you for a very long time, Jessie, and you have done so so many wonderful and brilliant things. Or rather, you will, eventually.” The words were murmured reassuringly in my ear. I gulped, fighting back sobs.

“Will it happen like my dreams, Doctor?” I asked after a few moments. He pulled away and looked at me.

“Much of it will, yes. But reality and dreams are very different.” He told me. “I have seen you suffer terrible loses but also celebrate extraordinary triumphs. I have seen you stand with great confidence and poise and I am one of the few who has seen you cry. You are human, Jessie, more so than many. This will not be a dream; it will be your life. Beautiful, brilliant, terrible life.”

“I’m scared.” I said quietly when he had finished.

“And that’s okay. Don’t be ashamed of that fear, it will help you in the years to come.” He told me softly. I sighed, much calmer than I had been before.

“When will I…when…” I tried to find the words to ask the question I needed to ask.

“When will you become the Lady Prophet?” The Doctor supplied. I just nodded. “Soon.”


End file.
